Sunset ( English and Sicilian Quintain ) While the bud butterflies melt their wings Within the light red poppy chain, The pink-gray clouded, sad sunset rings. In this lost sky, the suns light vein Is almost thrown in a bloody rain. The leaving sun abandons the sky For the moon, and in the cricket crawl, The leaves of the oaks whisper good bye, While the coming night has a dark shawl. She looks at the stars with a black eye. The sun and the stars find synergy, In the regolith on the moon, But with helium fusing energy, This moon looks like a big balloon, Or like a fragile, silky cocoon. And like those thoughts enveloped in words, Or like angels carrying their pure love, Are the Feathers of the Holy Birds In that rain dropping the divine globes On the strong souls needing love rewards. Any epistemological sphere Is pouring up to the Holy Book, Or is falling down to disappear. The reverse arch gets a killer look. Tries to provide fragrance of fear. The fluid, wicked waves draining in sight On Earth to meet at infinity Are like the dark rays in the pure light. Light rays are arches of Trinity, While dressed in wind seems to be the night. Stars are candles and night lights them all, The colors withdraw in the last light. In the black darkness, they look so small. The dream seeds germinate for a fight, Becoming real while breaking their wall. Poem by Marieta Maglas More poetry at: poemhunter/marieta-maglas English Quintain The rhyme scheme for English quintains is usually A-B-A-B-B. There is no set measure or foot (the number and type of syllables or feet). Quintains work well in long poems like ballads. An excerpt from “Ode to a Skylark” by Percy Bysshe Shelley is an example of this form: In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, Oer which clouds are brightning, Thou dost float and run, Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. Sicilian Quintain Originally these had no set meter or form, but soon iambic pentameter was widely used. The rhyme scheme is usually A-B-A-B-A. “Home is so Sad” by Philip Larkin Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, Shaped to the comfort of the last to go As if to win them back. Instead, bereft Of anyone to please, it withers so, Having no heart to put aside the theft.
Posted on: Wed, 14 Jan 2015 00:17:51 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015